the door of the
pagoda.

"I must now go to the bungalow to see Madame Louison and have her
approve her horses and carriage. She has sent word that she will drive
this afternoon. And," he whispered breathlessly, "Old Johnstone is very
sick. He has sent all over the city to find you, and now his own private
man bids me go there at once. He must have me, if he can't find you."

Major Hawke mused a moment. "Give me the keys! Put your best man on
guard to watch for any intruders! Go first to the Mem-Sahib! Keep your
mouth shut! Remember about me and--" He pointed to the governess, now
timidly cowering in a shadowy corner. "Let the old devil wait till you
are done with her! Pump the old wretch! Find out what he wants! Say that
I went off for a day's jaunt!" Alan Hawke smiled grimly as he seated
himself tenderly at Justine Delande's side. "Old Hugh did not last long!
They must have had their first skirmish. If he is a coward at heart, she
will rule him with a rod of iron. What is her hold over him? I warrant
that the jade will never tell me. She will fight him to the death in
silence, and try to hoodwink me. We will see, my lady! We will see!"

"Now, Justine," softly said the renegade, "tell me all of the story
of this strange father and daughter! Ram Lal has reconnoitered! We are
safe! Both Hugh and his daughter are at home!"

The reassured governess frankly opened her heart to her wary listener.
It was an hour before the recital was finished, and Miss Justine was
gayly chatting over the impromptu breakfast, when the details of these
last stormy days at Delhi were described. "I cannot make it all out. She
is certainly his legitimate daughter. He is crafty, covetous, miserly,
and yet he lives in a scornful splendor here. Both my sister and myself
look forward to learning the whole story through my visit here. Of
course, on our arrival, Nadine and myself wondered not at the gloomy
solitude of the marble house. But the affronts to society, the practical
imprisonment of this girl, this chilling silence as to her mother, have
roused her brave young heart. Not a picture, not a single memento, not
even a jewel, not a tress of hair, not even a passing mention of where
that shadowy mother lies buried!" the Swiss woman sighed. "He is a brute
and tyrant--a man of a stony heart and an iron hand!"

"You have never been made his confidante?" earnestly asked the Major.

"Never!" promptly replied Justine. "Beyond a grave courtesy and th